“Useless little blockhead, what good are you?”
Wen Shubai pretended to be disappointed and scolded lightly, rising from his seat. He scooped up the unconscious Chu Weiliang, tucked her under his arm, and headed straight back to his room.
Qin Buji chased after him, wanting to help carry A Liang:
“Grandmaster Uncle, A Liang is quite heavy, let this disciple help you…”
Before he could finish speaking, he immediately sensed a sharp, murderous intent and quickly changed his words:
“Open… the door…”
Then, he swiftly retreated.
Inside the room, Wen Shubai carried Chu Weiliang and unceremoniously tossed her onto the bed, placing her beside Wen Mian without any gentleness.
It was late at night, and Wen Mian, being young, had already fallen asleep while playing.
But Chu Weiliang refused to sleep. Though lying down, she reached back and grabbed Wen Shubai’s robe.
“Master, don’t go.”
Wen Shubai’s entire aura turned cold. A layer of frost formed on the silk gauze covering his face, spreading to his temples and turning his black hair white.
He slowly turned around, braced his hands on the bed, and leaned down to scrutinize her, asking word by word, slowly:
“Who… am… I…?”
Unexpectedly, Chu Weiliang giggled, seized his collar, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve never seen anyone so foolish, not even knowing who they are, hehehehehe…”
Her fingers unintentionally brushed against the frost-whitened strands of hair behind his ear. Feeling cool and refreshing, she rubbed his ear vigorously along with it.
A small crescent-shaped mark was briefly revealed behind his ear before being hidden again by the falling hair, unseen by anyone.
Wen Shubai’s sharp lips pressed down dangerously, and the bed shook slightly.
His voice lowered further, “Then, won’t you tell me?”
In such a situation, if she dared to mention “Fang Jixue” even once, he would immediately send her to death free of charge!
Chu Weiliang hung her arms around his neck, squinting her eyes, utterly drunk and disoriented. Her soft, plump lips parted slightly:
“You are… you are Wen the Blind Man…, the new master I picked up… Wen the Blind Man, ah, hehehehe…”
Wen Shubai: …
Though it sounded awful, he’d spare her life.
The icy aura around him gradually softened with her words.
The frost at his temples melted, leaving his hair slightly damp.
Following the pull of her arms, he lowered his head further.
“Then… call me ‘Master’?”
“Master~Master~~”
“……”
She was being obedient.
Too obedient.
Wen Shubai gritted his teeth.
Is this how you used to coax Fang Jixue?
His lips descended a little more, his voice growing even softer, so soft it was almost bewitching.
“Do you know how disciples in my sect should serve their master to please him?”
He wasn’t referring to the Brahma Heaven Palace, but the Great Mǐ Heaven Palace that ruled over the nine tribes and Seventy-two Kings of the Demon Realm.
But Chu Weiliang was completely drunk and couldn’t understand a thing, hovering between dream and wakefulness.
“Your disciple doesn’t know…, Master~Master, teach me…”
The corners of Wen Shubai’s tightly pressed lips lifted in delight. He turned his face slightly, his nose gently brushing against hers, and coaxed her in a husky voice:
“Mianmian…, be good, tell me, where did you hide the Demonic Glass Soul?”
His breath trembled, fine and fragmented, his lips lightly touching hers.
“Who is Mianmian? What… what broken thing?” Chu Weiliang was hopelessly drunk.
“Little liar, who did you deceive in the pocket dimension? Do you remember?” Wen Shubai was a bit angry.
Chu Weiliang whimpered and shook her head, even seeming a little wronged.
She truly didn’t remember him anymore.
Wen Shubai hesitated for a moment, steeled his heart, and gently pressed his lips against her soft, plump ones.
Soul Merge.
If she couldn’t remember, he’d search her soul himself!
Though Wen Shubai’s methods weren’t forceful, Soul Searching involved forcibly invading the Sea of Consciousness, which would still cause significant discomfort.
Chu Weiliang struggled, half-drunk and half-resisting, but after just a couple of movements, she passed out.
However, before Wen Shubai could find anything—
Smack!
A chubby little foot flew over and slapped squarely against his face.
Wen Mian had turned sideways in her sleep, kicking and interrupting the Soul Searching.
Such filial piety!
Wen Shubai gritted his teeth.
Infuriating!
He removed Wen Mian’s foot from his face, detached Chu Weiliang’s hands from his neck, tossed the two—one big, one small—onto the bed, fuming with rage, and left.
Chu Weiliang, her hands now empty, rolled over and hugged Wen Mian’s chubby foot, continuing to sleep.
…
Not long after Wen Shubai left, Hua Hua squeezed through the window crack like a large, transparent blob of snot.
It climbed onto the bed, attached itself to Chu Weiliang, and absorbed the alcohol from her system.
As the drunkenness faded, Chu Weiliang’s eyes snapped open, and she immediately woke up, sitting bolt upright.
“Why didn’t you come sooner? I have urgent matters to attend to. Ah, my head hurts.”
She gently moved Wen Mian’s foot aside, straightened her clothes and the bun on her head, stealthily checked that no one outside was paying attention, and prepared to leave.
Hua Hua whined softly, “It’s not my fault—I don’t have legs, so I move slowly.”
It hadn’t dared to come earlier, nor could it mention what it had witnessed through the window crack.
After all, these were trivial matters.
In their Demon Realm, who had time for preaching and teaching?
Disciples were meant to serve as Cauldrons for their Masters, aiding in their cultivation.
Between master and disciple, such intimate interactions were perfectly natural.
If a disciple served well and pleased their Master, they could not only see their cultivation skyrocket overnight but might even earn their Master’s favor upon ascension, lifting their entire family to glory.
But if they angered their Master, it was common to go from being highly favored one day to being refined into a dried-up skeleton and discarded the next.
With the young lady’s exceptional talent, Wen Shubai would surely be reluctant to refine her into bones.
Then again, being refined to death would be fine too—once dead, it would be free.
Chu Weiliang had no time to ponder what schemes a minor demon might be hiding. Tucking it into her robe, she left the courtyard.
She moved swiftly, and as she walked, the Shape-shifting Demon spread like a film over her face, stretching her height, broadening her shoulders, until she quickly transformed into the likeness of Fang Jixue and headed straight for the Hall of Law Enforcement.
High above, Wen Shubai leaned against a tall tree branch, the silk gauze over his face fluttering gently in the night breeze. He leisurely stroked Feng Xi, who had turned into a small pig, taking in everything below.
Feng Xi lay beside him, twitched its nose, and suddenly the fur on its back stood on end.
“Lord, why has your Demonic Glass Soul disappeared?”
Having lived for over ten thousand years, even compressed into a small pig, it could detect anomalies that others easily missed.
Demons of the Demon Race all possessed a Demon Core, just as human cultivators refined their Life Essence.
A human could live without their Life Essence, but if a demon lost their Demon Core, even if they didn’t die immediately, they would become worthless trash, unable to endure the demonic miasma of the Demon Realm. Forced to leave, they would be shunned by all realms, meeting a wretched end.
Thus, in the conflicts between humans and demons, Demon Cores, like human soul lights, were symbols of martial merit.
And the Demon Lord Jun Fuyi—his Demon Core was called the Demonic Glass Soul.
There is only one of its kind in the world.
It was something the entire Northern Profound Realm had coveted for thousands upon thousands of years.
And now, it was gone!
Gone!
And no one knew such a monumental secret!
Feng Xi felt he might be silenced like a pig about to be slaughtered…
Yet, Wen Shubai seemed utterly unconcerned. Still drowsy from wine, he lazily glanced in the direction where Chu Weiliang had disappeared:
“She stole it.”
“Stole…” Feng Xi nearly fell off the tree.
If the Demon Emperor from back then were to learn that her fluffy little darling’s Demon Core had been stolen by a woman, forcing him to endure a thousand years of humiliation—neither demon, human, nor monster—she would surely be heartbroken.
“But it doesn’t matter. Her Life Essence is with me.”
“Oh————” Feng Xi exclaimed loudly.
He seemed to understand something now.
In the Demon Race’s Dual Cultivation Path, after reaching a certain realm, partners exchange Demon Cores during cultivation through shared breath. It is said this allows them to transcend physical limitations and elevate their souls to the peak of ecstasy.
So, the Demon Lord had perfected the Dual Cultivation Path, standing just one step away from ascension, only to be tricked by a woman… He had played himself into a corner…